


Perennial

by curiouswildflower



Series: Bloom verse [2]
Category: Do No Harm (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Not discussed explicitly, Other, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 00:36:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12783069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiouswildflower/pseuds/curiouswildflower
Summary: "He already carries Philly’s snow in his chest, Jamaica’s colors on his thighs. Maybe he can just be content here with San Juan’s sun on his skin."





	Perennial

**Author's Note:**

> A boy I love very much, rediscovering love and ambition. For the girls.

Ruben wakes to a crash of thunder, followed by his shutters blowing open and smacking against the siding. He scrambles over to shut them, nearly tripping on the laundry littering the floor. The warm rain pounds onto his arms but Ruben clicks the latch in place with a practiced motion. His hands fall to the window sill, feels the stretch in his neck as he lets his head drop too. Five years and these island storms still catch him off guard.

Ruben stumbles back to bed, slower now, flopping down on top of the mattress. Another crash of thunder sounds outside and Ruben falls asleep on top of his dark blue sheets with his arms still damp from rain.

\--

 

The next morning Isla wants bouquets in the windows. Pinks, reds, yellows. The blue cobblestone street outside the shop shines with rain that the sun will dry by lunchtime. The weather in the city moves in and out like the tourists – fast and bright.

He weaves between them as he bikes home, snippets of conversation like he’s skipping through songs. Ruben’s vision starts to blur at the edges, the greys and browns of Philadelphia against the oranges and yellows of San Juan. His chest feels full with snow he hasn’t seen in years.

He wonders what it would be like to be back up north. Maybe not Philadelphia, with all the monsters that still live in her alleys and basements. He liked the history in DC, the ambition in New York. 

At his apartment Ruben takes off his helmet and shakes out his floppy hair. Shakes off that train of thought. He already carries Philly’s snow in his chest, Jamaica’s colors on his thighs. Maybe he can just be content here with San Juan’s sun on his skin.

\--

 

Their names are Usnavi and Vanessa, and Ruben meets them at his regular coffee shop when he takes Vanessa’s drink instead of his own. They ask him to sit with them – can he help them figure out what to do while they’re on the island this week?

Ruben’s fingertips go numb around his coffee. He talks with them for far longer than Ruben has spoken to anyone except Mama in months. The notebook in the bag by his feet is filled with sketches of the plants he cares for, but Ruben itches to draw the shapes of these two. Usnavi’s nose in profile, Vanessa’s hair across her shoulders. 

They invite him to lunch the next day, and he accepts. They leave and Ruben realizes he doesn’t know his work hours tomorrow, but as quick as that thought comes there’s another. He’d do just about anything to make it to that lunch tomorrow, to see these two and hear their stories for even longer. 

\--

 

Four days, four lunches. They flew in on a Wednesday, fly out on a Wednesday – Usnavi claims it’s the cheapest day to travel. Thursday Ruben recommends renting bikes and exploring and they ask him to be their tour guide. Friday he points them toward the theater at the University of Puerto Rico and they insist he attend with them. Saturday he recommends a restaurant for dinner with live music, and he’s grateful they don’t push when he firmly declines their invitation to join them.

He doesn’t know what they’re doing. He doesn’t understand. Back at work on Saturday afternoon Isla asks if he’s feeling well.

“You’re distracted, _Rubén_. I can close the shop tonight if your headaches are back.”

She sets a hand on his shoulder, scratches her nails gently against his shirt. It reminds Ruben of Mama tracing her nails on his back until he fell asleep, reminds him of Romeo digging his nails into the back of Ruben’s hand to keep him grounded.

“I’m okay,” he tries to reassure her. “Just thinking.”

Her pink lipstick has faded to just a bright outline that stretches when she smiles down at him. She scratches her nails one more time on his shoulder and walks past him into the back of the store.

He bikes home, carefully avoiding the street with the restaurant he recommended to Usnavi and Vanessa. He doesn’t know why he keeps saying yes to them – why they keep asking for his company. They’re intoxicating, in a way that makes some deep ambitious thing inside Ruben flex and uncurl. He doesn’t know why they’ve given him so much of their time, their stories, but Ruben wants more.

\--

 

Sunday he shows up at their lunch spot but only to invite them to his apartment for dinner that night. What he specifically says is _I’d like to treat you._ Ruben carries the shine of Usnavi’s smile and the confidence of Vanessa’s gaze with him well into the afternoon - feeds them to the ambitious creature sinking it’s claws into his belly.

Vanessa and Usnavi are right on time. They’re devastating, again and again. Vanessa’s hair piled high on her head, showing off the slope of her shoulders in her strapless dress. Usanvi holding out a bottle of wine, dusty purple-red like the blush on his cheeks, like the color of his dress shirt.

The conversation remains light through dinner and Ruben wonders if they knew what he was offering. He thinks they might – Vanessa keeps finding reasons to touch his wrists and Usnavi’s bouncing knee bumps into his under the table.

Usnavi helps him wash their dishes as Vanessa sits on the counter, singing to the radio. Ruben wipes down the sink, smiling as Usnavi starts to sing with her. Usnavi hangs his towel on the oven and walks to where Vanessa has spread her legs, leaning on the counter between them. Ruben feels a sharp heat in his spine, a catch of his breath. He stares openly as Vanessa draws Usnavi onto his tiptoes with a hand under his chin, claiming his mouth in a kiss.

Usnavi drops back onto his heels, flushed across his cheeks again. He looks over at Ruben as he curls his fingers around Vanessa’s bare thighs. Ruben asks, “Can I -?”

Usnavi nods, nods, nods, reaches out his hand. Vanessa smiles down at them, presses her knees into Usnavi’s hips as he turns to face Ruben. Usnavi’s mouth opens against his, warm and soft and whining in his throat as Ruben licks into his mouth.

Ruben breaks away at the feeling of Vanessa’s hands scratching through his hair, looks up at her Cheshire-cat grin. Her hand on the back of his neck draws him up, up – her mouth is sweet from the wine as she kisses him. He leans forward to reach her, pressing Usnavi back into the counter. Usnavi groans _Yes_ , presses a searing kiss at the base of Ruben’s neck.

“I still-“ Ruben starts, turning his face and murmuring into Usnavi’s hair. Vanessa scratches his neck again.

He repeats his invitation from earlier – _I want to treat you. Both of you._ Usnavi groans _Yes_ again and Vanessa nudges them away so she can slide off the counter.

\--

 

Their clothes scatter with his on the floor. The shudders sit open - moon bright against the sky like Vanessa’s skin against his dark sheets. Usnavi helps Ruben out of his jeans, mouthing along his jaw. Vanessa announces from the bed _I want to ride you_ and Ruben feels the hardwood floors under his feet, the scratch of Usnavi’s beard. Breathes. Lets the memories of restraint and pain enter and slip from his mind as easy as ocean waves.

“No,” he says, kneeling on the bed and tugging Usnavi to lay beside Vanessa. “I want to fuck you like this.”

Vanessa smiles that satisfied grin again, reaches up and drags a pillow down to put under her head. “I’ll get comfy, then.”

Ruben’s laughing turn into gasping as Usnavi rolls back towards them and puts a slick hand on Ruben’s dick. Ruben closes his eyes, braces a hand on one of Vanessa’s propped up knees, and goes back to laughing as Usnavi whispers “Some for you…”

He opens his eyes to see Usnavi’s hand curl around Vanessa, fingers stroking her gently as he whispers, “Some for the lady.”

Vanessa rolls her eyes at him and he smiles, catching her gasp against his lips as he pushes a finger inside her. Ruben watches them – the flex in Usnavi’s arm, the arch of Vanessa’s back. He leans forward, bracing himself with one hand on the bed and the other on Usnavi’s chin, pulling him into a kiss.

Vanessa groans their names, Usnavi’s then his, and he tells Usnavi where to find a condom before he turns and kisses Vanessa. She sighs and squirms, long legs wrapping around his waist. Usnavi cuddles up next to her again as he rolls the condom down onto Ruben and Ruben feels that ambitious beast in his spine roar with delight as he fucks into Vanessa the first time.

She comes apart quickly with Usnavi’s fingers pressed against her again. She’s quiet, hands in Ruben’s hair and sighing their names against their mouths. Usnavi hasn’t stopped smiling, gets Vanessa off again before the heat builds and builds and bursts and Ruben comes too. Vanessa and Usnavi kiss lazily as Ruben gets up and discards the condom, then fetches another from his nightstand.

Vanessa shifts so Usnavi is propped on her chest, tracing her fingers along his thighs and hips. “It’s pretty fun to deny him,” she says as Ruben climbs back into bed. Usnavi shakes his head as she continues, “But this is kind of your night. Any ideas?”

Ruben tears open the packet and rolls it onto him. “I’m treating you, remember? I want to blow you.”

Usnavi whines, chanting _Yes, Yes, Yes_ as Ruben takes him into his mouth.

“ _Dios mío,_ that’s hot,” Vanessa whispers, chin tucked against Usnavi’s shoulder. “Look at his mouth, _querido._ You look so good together.”

Ruben loses himself a little in the motions – it’s been years since he had his mouth on someone, years since he could give someone this. Somewhere in his heart sings for Romeo, thanks him for his patience and love when Ruben didn’t think he would ever deserve either of those things. Ruben’s heart floods with heat as Usnavi comes, satisfied and grateful all over again.

They curl up on either side of him, tracing fingers along his body. Vanessa wanders too low, nails against the scars on the back of his thighs, and with his murmured _not there_ she starts looping words on his back. If it storms that night, they don’t hear it.

\--

 

Ruben wakes up only a few hours later, unused to the other bodies in bed with him. He slips out to the bathroom and rinses off standing at the sink. He hears them shift, hears Usnavi call for him with a question. He wets down a washcloth and joins them again, shushing them.

Usnavi’s cheeks are pink and creased from the pillows and he hums as Ruben wipes off his hands and hips. Vanessa takes the washcloth from Ruben with a kiss and wipes herself down, tossing it back in the direction of the bathroom and tugging him down between them again. Ruben pulls the discarded top sheet up with him as he lays back, smiling into Usnavi’s hair as he wiggles his way back onto Ruben’s shoulder.

For a few quiet minutes they all breathe, but no one drops off to sleep. Ruben runs his fingers through Usnavi’s hair, feels Vanessa pressed warm against his back. “Tell me a story,” he says softly. Vanessa kisses his shoulder and indulges him.

It’s a story of a nurse and a photographer ( _príncipe y princesa_ , Usnavi insists) living in New York City. They’re happy together in their apartment just outside Washington Heights above a Thai restaurant. _They eat fried rice and goi see mee every night y el príncipe isn’t lactose intolerant so he eats all the crab rangoon he wants_ Usnavi adds. Vanessa reaches over and pinches his hip. He swats at her hand.

They travel to a foreign land to stay with _la abuela de la princesa_ for a while, and meet a handsome knight who shows them his city. She goes quiet, and Ruben becomes achingly aware of the Monday sunrise they’ll see in a few hours.

So he takes over. Tells a different story, about a boy from a village who loves to make potions. A boy who was hurt very badly for a potion that he made for a cruel wizard. So the potion-maker builds a suit of armor and becomes a knight. One who lives in a sunny land and draws in notebooks and grows flowers and visits his Mama.

“He should visit _el príncipe y la princesa_.” Usnavi murmurs, almost too quiet. Ruben strokes his hand along Usnavi’s back, blinks at the sudden tears pressing against his eyes. Vanessa leans up to kiss his cheek, then Usnavi’s, snakes an arm around his waist. “Sleep, _queridos_.”

\--

 

He doesn’t see them again before they leave the island. The echoes of them are everywhere he looks – his coffee shop, his neighborhood, his bed. The ambitious creature crawling along Ruben’s spine doesn’t leave either, reciting back to him the story of the potion-maker and his suit of armor. 

On a rainy day in November he gives Isla his two weeks’ notice. “I’m visiting Ma for Christmas.” He explains, water dripping off his hair onto the tile floor of the shop. “Then I’m moving to New York.”

She hugs him, scratches her nails against his shoulders. “ _Rubén, cariño - recuerda tu Isla._ ” He kisses her curly hair.

\--

 

Ruben triple checks the looped cursive address on the note in his hand against the cracking paint of the building in front of him. He takes a deep breath, December air harsh in his nose and throat, and presses the buzzer.

A moment later. “Yo.”

Ruben pauses, breathes again. He hears, “Hello?”

“Hi,” he finally gets out. “I’m new to the city – know any good places to get lunch?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Come talk to me at maeflowerpetunia on tumblr - ask me about this Ruben, I've thought a lot about him recently and not all of it made it in here. Or talk to me about devastating pictures of Lin-Manuel. Or literally anything else. <3 <3 <3


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